DEATH for Tea
by Chip of Silver
Summary: A silly fic I wrote for English class. DEATH comes to visits Adam 11 years after the end of the book, and Crowley cheats at card.


Here is the Good Omens fan fiction I wrote for English class. No pairings though, 'cause you know, it was for English.

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Dog didn't spend nearly as much time chasing after rats these days. He'd rather smugly outgrown being a small dog when a teen aged Adam had been wanted a big friendly mutt with which he could wrestle and toss sticks for. Not a soul had commented when the small terrier with one funny ear and shrill little bark had grown into a shaggy mutt with floppy ears, giant paws and a tail that knocked things off of low tables.[1] Dog had been with Adam for eleven years, six of which as a big dog. He would remain with his master for eternity, seeing as Adam was the least likely human[2] to ever die. As a hell hound, Dog was immortal and created only to belong to Adam and to torture damned souls. He did very little of the latter these days, and even less of the killing and tearing of flesh he'd been promised when told he was to be the personal hound of the Antichrist, but there was plenty of barking and chasing of cats in Tadfield, and really what more could he ask for?

Adam himself had grown up in his own way. He wasn't very tall, not even six foot and he was a little slim, but he was healthy. His eyes were still as intense as they were when he was eleven, but he was double the age now, and much more aware of the world around him. He still believed that the whales needed to be saved and that there was something a little suspicious about canned tuna, but he didn't tell anyone about his wild conspiracy theories anymore. The Them would have listened of course, glad to be drawn again into Adam's world where it was only the four of them[3] against everyone else and they could do anything they wanted to. However, Adam knew that the rest of the Them needed a life that didn't resolve around him and that if he spoke most of his ideas out loud they would come true. Considering some of them came true anyways, he was very careful not to address the fleeting ideas that passed through.

It never really went away, being the Antichrist. Being the Adversary, The Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan and Lord of Darkness. That was something that stuck with you and really what could you do but move on with your life and make sure not to accidentally destroy the world when you were stood up by your prom date?[4] Being able to do anything made for very interesting teen years. Adam aced all the multiple choice tests by doodling, and the passage he happened to read before a test was always what the most important question was on. Wensleydale had berated him at first, but the decided it wasn't worth it when Adam had simply shrugged and gotten 100% on all his final exams. Wensleydale had then proceeded to pester Pepper and Brian into studying instead, with about as much success.

Luckily all four had graduated, moving onto their respective collages, Brian to be an archeologist,[5] Pepper seemed to have no clear idea of her goals[6] and Wensleydale was trying to become a lawyer, or a doctor, or an accountant.[7] Personally Adam wanted to be a teacher. He wanted to educate young minds. He wanted to stay in Tadfield and watch the next generation grow up.

Life was exciting in collage, a chance to move on from his life as the leader of Them, and a chance to learn and meet new people. Then again, when summer rolled around and the term ended Adam Young had never been more relieved to go back home. He'd moved out and rented an apartment not far from where his parents lived. The days were spent mostly with Dog at home, reading or watching television, or with Them, meeting one of Pepper's new boyfriends or listening to Wensleydale lecture about his major.

It was one of those days of sitting at home with a book that Mr Taylor died. Nearly 11 years to the day that the world almost ended[8] and it was the first time in those nearly 11 years that DEATH had a reason to visit Tadfield. Taking the elderly old man, the horseman had paused and with a spontaneity that was unusual for DEATH, he appeared in Adam Young's living room. Just behind the sofa in fact and mostly out of the light that the open window was throwing. Adam continued reading. It may have been a cheesy mystery novel, but actually it was rather gripping. DEATH stood patiently as the Antichrist finished the rest of the page then carelessly dog-eared the corner of it. Laying near the wall, in the light from the window, Dog raised his head a little to keep his eye on the new comer, though he didn't move from the rather comfortable position. A fly buzzed path DEATH and dropped to the floor. It was safe to assume it deceased.

"How've you been?" the Antichrist asked DEATH, smiling and turning to face him. The book he set safely on the couch beside him. Death shrugged, though it was hard to tell through the thick raincoat he was wearing. He seemed to have abandoned the biker gear, rather wearing what seemed to be an extremely baggy black rain coat that, clearly too long, fell down to his knees. He eyes were well hidden behind sunglasses, and his hood was up, so all Adam could make out was the sharp flash of cheek bone.

IT'S BEEN OKAY. LOTS OF DEATH SO I CAN'T COMPLAIN. The horseman said. His mouth didn't appear to move, as far as Adam could see. NOT SO MANY IN TADFIELD, BUT THERE ARE ENOUGH WARS IN THE WORLD THAT IT DOESN'T REALLY MAKE A DIFFERENCE. He continued. Adam nodded politely. He wasn't keeping the people of Tadfield alive on purpose, and he didn't really think DEATH minded so much, so he decided not to worry about it.

"How is War then?" Adam changed the topic, he didn't really want to know about the millions dying. DEATH shrugged again. In the corner, Dog stood up and spun a few times before flopping back down with a huff and going back to sleep. Adam cast a brief grin at the hell hound, then turned his attention back to his guest. "Can I offer you same tea?" He asked, realizing his lapse in manners.

OH YES, THANK YOU. THAT WOULD BE WONDERFUL. He seemed sincere enough, though it was hard to tell. Standing, Adam gestured for the horseman to sit then moved to the

kitchen. He didn't make tea, so much as will there to be tea. With sugar and cream and on a little silver tray with nice china. He carried it out, teabags steeping in the pot, and placed it on the low coffee table. Nodding vaguely towards the set, he sat across from DEATH in the uncomfortable armchair. DEATH nodded politely, helping himself to a cup.[9] Delicate china clasped in his long fingers, he turned his attention back to Adam, who really had no interest in tea and had only offered it to be polite.

YOU WERE ASKING ABOUT WAR? He prompted, and Adam smiled, nodding affirmatively.

"Yes, that's right. How is she? Her, and the other horsepeople of the apocalypse." Adam asked politely. He noted that most of DEATH's tea was gone, though as far as Adam could tell, not a single sip had been taken.

SHE'S BEEN ADVISING THE U.S. PRESIDENT FOR A FEW YEARS NOW. And there was something like pride in his voice. Adam considered this for a moment, then admitted it made a lot of sense. POLLUTION HAS BEEN HITCHING RIDES ON OIL TRANSPORTS, HE RATHER ENJOYS THE OPEN OCEAN. He paused here, as though to think, or smile fondly. He didn't however move. Or twitch. Adam doubted he blinked. He wondered if DEATH had eyes.

"And Famine?" The Antichrist prompted.

SELLING DIETARY SUPPLEMENTS. DEATH informed impartially.

"Ah." Said Adam.

WHAT ABOUT YOUR GROUP? He asked. Adam shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.[10]

"They've all gone off to university, so I don't see them as often. But we're still Them. Just now we're Them over a distance." He grinned half halfheartedly, and DEATH nodded sagely.

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS DRIFT APART. The knowledge imparted was both unwelcome and just a little annoying.

"Heard anything about the angel and the demon? Crowley and Azraphile." Adam asked DEATH. He doubted it, but they were all supernatural beings and It did make for good conversation.

AZIRAPHALE. He was corrected. AND NO. WE DON'T HANG OUT MUCH IN THE SAME CIRCLES.

"Pity" Adam reached out to make himself a cup of tea for something to do with his hands. "I had wondered what happened to them." He of course could have just willed himself the knowledge, or gone to visit, but that seemed a little like cheating, and it didn't really make much of a difference in the long run.

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In the backroom of a little bookshop in London, an Angel and a Demon were playing cards and drinking. It was raining outside, but in London that was hardly unusual. Aziraphale and Crowley also hadn't seen outside in nearly a week and so they hadn't really noticed. Crowley shuffled the deck with some enthusiasm,[11] the bottle of bourbon beside his chair leg had been refilled already twice that night and he was a happily buzzed.

"I saw that, my dear." Aziraphale stated rather causally, though he was far too content and far too used to Crowley to really be bothered.[12] Surrounded by his books and with Crowley for company it would be hard to find something that would upset him. Rather then be annoyed, Crowley laughed, and grinned at the angel. His sunglasses had long been removed, and the slit pupils of his snake eyes were easily visible. If Aziraphale hadn't been so used to them, they might have unnerved him but as it was, they were just something that was uniquely Crowley.

"Of course you did, but what sort of demon would I be if I didn't try?" the demon retaliated, but when he shuffled the deck again he did so honestly, and dealt the cards out without slipping any into his sleeves.

"I'm sure you're very evil, but it doesn't mean you have to cheat at cards," Aziraphale pointed out, gathering up his hand and scowling at the ones he'd been dealt. "I always catch you anyways." He elaborated in a slightly lower tone and with a roll of his eyes for good measure. Crowley heard him, which he was suppose to, and scowled, gathering up his own hand. He had a much better poker face then Aziraphale, even a little drunk.

"I'll have you know, that I've done some truly awful things these last few weeks alone. I'm a demon Zira, and evil's in my bones." Crowley stated grandly. He lay down his four and grinned when Aziraphale winced.

"I'm sure you have Crowley. And that's an illegal move." The angel patronized, picking up a placed card and handing it back to the demon. Crowley scowled but accepted it.

"I have! In the last week, I put forth the idea for a law that will end up doubling the waiting times in government buildings. A year from now, it will be passed, and in two years time all government ques will lengthen and no one will be able to get anything done. There, that's not illegal, is it angel?" Crowley preened at his own brilliant plot, placing down an alternate card and then scowling a little when he noticed the smug glint to Aziraphale's eyes.

"Last week in convinced an old man to repent on his death bed, and donate his entire fortune to a children's home." The angel retaliated, remaining passive. Still, he couldn't help the smirk that peeked at the edges of his expression. Crowley narrowed his eyes at his counterpart, watching as Aziraphale lay a card and then swearing violently when it was just the card he didn't need and the angel won. Said angel chuckled softly, accepting the bottle of bourbon from Crowley after the demon took a long swig. He took a drink himself, then set in on the table, beside the ragged pile of cards.

"I want a rematch angel!" Crowley demanded. He was smiling. Aziraphale grinned back.

"Of course dear, who am I to deny you if you want to lose again?" He asked innocently.

"You'll see Zira, I'm going to win" Crowley insisted, grabbing at the cards to shuffle them again, careful to cheat. Aziraphale called him on it and, ruefully, Crowley dealt them honestly. The demon and the angel sat in the backroom of a little used bookstore, surrounded by hundreds of very expensive books that Aziraphale would never sell, playing a game of cards that neither actually knew the rules to anymore. A set of healthy plants sat in the corner, every one tall and green and terrified, and parked outside the shop was a shiny Bentley, that may or may not be new and it really depended how you looked at it. Every cassette inside was Queen, except for a few songs that Crowley was pretty sure were from the 50's.[13]

It would be nearly a week before the two resurfaced to join the world. Then, they would go for dinner or to feed the ducks. Aziraphale would admonish Crowley for his juvenile acts of evil with a well placed 'Really, my dear?' and the demon would correct his sin. In return, Crowley would convince the flustered angel to live a little more dangerously, laughing at the angel's amused disapproval. They would go on corrupting and purifying each other and the world, secure in the knowledge that the world was safe from ending at the moment and that they had to live in it while they could.

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There would always be conflict in the world, and War would always be needed. Under an assumed name, the beautiful red-head whispered in the ear of the leader of the most powerful country in the world, and reveled in the wars and the protests and the debates that came with influencing a president.

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There was a dietary supplement company based Taiwan with a product that would resulted in rapid weight loss. It would become a secret to dieting, until a year later when it would be pronounced unsafe and pulled off the shelves. The women on it would suddenly gain back twice to weight, and starve themselves trying to regain the image. Famine sat in his pressed suit and crunched the figures quietly, while a sallow faced secretary answered calls.

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Pollution was leaning over the railing, watching as the oil bubbled up from bellow to spread across the surface of the water. Sailors were screaming orders, and panicked men were trying to find the cause of the sudden burst in the oil pipe. When the leak was stopped 4 days latter and the cause investigated it would be discovered that a single bolt had rusted through. By that time, Pollution would have moved on to work as a lab assistant to the man who would discover a chemical that helped plants grow, and 30 years later caused cancer.

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Thanking Adam for the tea, DEATH stood up to leave. Intrigued, Dog padded over, nosing at the ignored tray of tea. Disappointed to realize it was free of anything he would enjoy to eat, he say down with a whine to watch Adam see of his guest. He hoped when the Antichrist turned around he was be willing to find a dog treat for Dog. Adam smiled politely and thanked the horseman for coming. Adam thought that DEATH may have smiled.

SORRY TO HAVE INTRUDED, He said neutrally. His voice was like it always was, seeming to come form every direction. AND I'M SORRY ABOUT MR. TAYLOR.

"It's alright, I didn't mind." The Antichrist assured. He opened the door then hesitated. DEATH paused in the doorway. "And don't worry about Mr. Taylor. It was his time, he was very old."

I WOULDN'T HAVE TAKEN HIM OTHERWISE. The horseman agreed with a nod. Dog whined hungrily from the den, and Adam glanced away for a moment. When he looked back, DEATH was gone. Adam simply shut the door with a shrug and carried the tea tray back into the kitchen, grabbing a biscuit for Dog.

Nothing had changed. Life was lived, and then you died. DEATH took you no matter what and you went on to Heaven or Hell. The world hadn't ended and really Adam was rather pleased to be living in it. War, Famine, Pollution and DEATH included. They existed as long as humanity did and Adam knew better then anyone that if you destroyed all that was wrong with humanity, you destroyed what it was.

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[1] Nothing of any importance of course, Dog was always careful to only accidentally knock off food he could then eat. Being a big dog expended a lot more energy then being a small one and he was always very hungry. He could however now scare the neighborhood cats with very little effort, so it wasn't really so bad.

[2] He was _mostly_ human. In a way.

[3] And Dog

[4] Shelly Quinn. She had gotten in a car accident when a big mutt of a dog had darted across the street in pursuit of a cat.

[5] So that he could have a professional reason to be constantly covered in dirt.

[6] Other then bringing home a boy her mother disapproved of. So far she hadn't found one.

[7] Or something boring like that.

[8] In fact, it had been 10 years, 11 months and 13 days.

[9] DEATH drank his tea with sugar and a splash of creme.

[10] Also absently noting he needed a hair cut.

[11] Cheating of course. He WAS a demon.

[12] He was also a little drunk. So that helped.

[13] Aziraphale kept adding new Cassettes in the hope that they wouldn't turn into queen. It hadn't worked yet, and in the meantime Crowley was more amused by the attempts then annoyed by the angel's taste in music.

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Yess, so this was written for my English class, so it's pretty short. It was already 3x the size that was allowed so i had to stop writing it xD Not betaed but shouldn't be too bad. My beta has run away from the summer. XP

ANNYWAYS~ Anyone who likes anything ever, so read 'Hanna is Not a Boy's Name' by Tessa Stone. It's a webcomic that is MADE OF WIN.


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